Convictions were a capricious thing.
Like a burning candle placed in the windy night, no matter how carefully one cupped the flame, it would still go out.
Elijah had his own fair share of such convictions.
The first came when he was born. For him, it had been a struggle to keep breathing.
Though his memories were riddled with gaps, some fragments remained. Like when he had clutched himself as pain clawed through his frame, believing it would go away soon enough.
It didn't.
At five, he believed he would be able to live a happy life as long as he obeyed his adoptive parents.
The peace, if it could even be called that, had lasted only for a few years before it shattered into pieces and slivered out of his chest along with the crimson flowing from his eyes and nose.
Then came yet another memory gap where he had somehow wandered through the small island to the east of Eldwych.
The Red Shore.
When Father John had brought him back to church, he clung to him like a koala. During mass, he would sit in the front row, watching everything with awe.
Perhaps it was that quiet sense of safety that drew him to the church, or maybe it was the shadows it claimed to banish.
The exorcism fascinated him.
After all, understanding the divine might help him understand himself.
Under the care of his godfather, he got into the seminary and spent the next six years studying philosophy, theology, spiritual formation, pastoral training, and community living.
However, when it was time to take a vow and become a Deacon, he refused.
Those six years had shaped his own convictions, and one of them was that he would not live at anyone's beck and call.
His abrupt decision unsettled more than a few at the seminary.
Considering his rather young age and his gift, most simply lamented the waste of his potential.
Waste. It was his childhood nickname. He had heard it so many times that no new emotions surged again.
In a way, it was absurd how a mention of that place had his temples thrumming with a slight ache.
Before he could spiral down memory lane, he found himself pedaling his blue cycle through the gates of Kingsmere University.
Veritas Regnat, meaning 'Truth Reigns,' was carved into the arch of the main gates, serving as the proud motto.
Just from the fancy gate, one could tell how exquisite the university was.
It was known for producing politicians, judges, high-ranking clergy, and old-money financiers. Its alumni included even royals, prime ministers, and media moguls.
However, the strict, merit-based system would eliminate many of the students. But legacy admissions and deep-pocketed donors carried weight everywhere in the world.
Even the truth bowed to money.
Elijah was one of the few exceptions who were studying under the banner of scholarship.
Scanning his ID, he pedaled toward his destination. His white hoodie was left unzipped over his light blue shirt, and now it fluttered with the breeze.
The sun blessed the land with warmth, sparing him from the usual chill that snuck into his collar like a thief.
The university was big, but so were the benefits from passing with the Kingsmere name.
Pulling his blue cycle into the stand, he threw his bag over his shoulder and went forward while checking his phone.
"Where are you, man?"
"Still asleep?"
The last message was just five minutes ago.
He texted Chase back, 'I'm here,' and slid the phone into his pocket.
Instead of heading through Kingsmere Hall, the route Chase would've taken to reach the renowned Commerce Department, he walked the other way.
Unlike the other sprawling departments, theology was confined to a single, aging building. St. Peregire's
Apparently, with the rapid growth of science, people had long since started taking ghosts and demons as a joke.
He was, of course, late for the first class. Second was on the way.
Soon, the bell rang, and the almost empty hallways flooded with the flurry of footsteps.
Eli spared the students one glance before focusing on the way the air lapped at his fingertips.
Most of the time, he would avoid staring at the humans.
Rather than his concern about others' privacy, it was more out of keeping his sanity in check.
It wasn't a good idea to peer into someone's soul and end up knowing what was better left untold.
The classroom wasn't crowded as it would have been in other departments.
As always, he took the last seat, a place which was avoided by others just like him. It was more of the handiwork of his past, actually.
Not that he minded.
The silence was far more welcoming than absurd questions like... Do you see ghosts? Can you kill them? My shoulders are heavy. Can you tell me if someone is sitting on them?
Professor Resse, a man in his fifties, began the lecture by saying, "Faith without thought is as dangerous as a psychopath loose on the road with a knife."
A psychopath with a knife...
That was exactly the case for The Red Shore.
Using the tall student in front of him as cover, Eli pulled his phone out.
After typing in the search bar, 'The massacre at the Red Shore,' he hit on Ok.
His finger hovered over the top link for a second before he finally tapped on it.
Archived News Report | The Eldwych Times
Published: October 17, 2014
In what remains one of the most horrifying mass casualty events in modern British history, the isolated island known as the Red Shore witnessed the deaths of nearly 260 residents out of a population of just over 400 during a single night of violence.
Survivors, many found in a near-catatonic state, later exhibited extreme signs of psychosis.
Medical personnel reported instances of self-mutilation, with several individuals found having stabbed their own skin.
In the hospital ward, attempts to speak with them ended in chaos as some descended into cannibalistic behavior.
Authorities linked the event to the influence of a fringe religious cult operating on the island at the time.
The group's leader, whose identity remains sealed by court order, was confirmed dead among the victims—
Eli pressed the power off button, and the screen turned black. The warmth of the sun seemed to vanish from his body.
The classroom was filled with Professor Resse's rambling until a soft hum drifted into his ears.
"Sleep little baby, sleep sleep sleep~
Mother will bring you so many treats~"
Through the blankness of his mobile screen, he looked at the corner of the ceiling where a woman was stuck like a spider. Only her neck was twisted all the way to the back.
Despite her dark hair, falling like curtains and covering her face, the glint in her pure white eyes shone brightly.
As if sensing the probing gaze, she crawled above Eli and grinned, showing her jagged teeth filled with dried blood.
Without even a slight twitch in his jaw, he threw his phone back into his pocket and focused on the remaining lecture.